


basic foundations (of relationships, of riders)

by Fictionalistic



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Equestrian, F/F, Gen, equestrian AU, horse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:44:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1554062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fictionalistic/pseuds/Fictionalistic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agents of Shield equestrian AU, set at Shield Eventing Stables.</p><p>Victoria Hand is the eventer who wooed hardcore dressage queen Melinda May to eventing. Here's a snippet of one of the beginnings of their relationship - to each other and to The Hub.</p>
            </blockquote>





	basic foundations (of relationships, of riders)

Dressage was never her strong point. 

With a frustrated grunt, Victoria asks for a half-halt from her mount in hopes of shifting the horse’s train-wreck energy to the hind, totally unsurprised when her aids go unheeded. Instead, her reins grow taut, the horse leaning heavily on the bit and tottering on the forehand. Finally, she stills her seat and the mare halts squarely with deceptive obedience. 

"Damn mares," she mutters under her breath even as her hand sneaks forward to scratch at The Hub’s withers. 

"She wouldn’t rush so much if you’d just relax, Victoria." 

Victoria turns her head to see Melinda May perched high on the arena fence, watching the pair with amused eyes. She arches an eyebrow, a dare on her tongue.

"Like you could do any better," Victoria retorts, a triumphant smirk forming on her lips when she sees Melinda’s flat glare. Challenge accepted. 

Without waiting for Melinda to respond, she makes quick work of dismounting and leads Hub to where Melinda is sitting. Perched atop the fence, Melinda realizes it’s the perfect height to climb onto the monstrously tall horse. Her fellow assistant trainer eyes Victoria suspiciously. There  _has_  to be a short joke coming..

Instead, Victoria offers up the reins in one hand and flicks a mock bow. Melinda grits her teeth and snatches the reins, taking care to ignore the flirting brush of Victoria’s gloved fingers against hers. She sticks a foot into a stirrup and swings into the saddle gracefully.

The moment she settles in the saddle, Melinda can already feel the negotiation with the mare starting. Hub shuffles uneasily under an unfamiliar rider, tense little steps tightening the mare’s back into inflexibility. She eyes Victoria where she’s taken Melinda’s spot on the fence, one long leg drawn up with an elbow propped against it, chin in hand. Melinda’s pretty sure she’s laughing. 

As she returns her attention to the mare underneath her, she takes a deep breath, channeling calm inner energy through her limbs. She asks for a walk with squeeze of her calves. 

Hub promptly shies to one side, snorting and neck raised high in alarm. Thankfully, Melinda’s strong core keeps her anchored in her seat, following the abrupt motion with fluidity and grace. 

"Softer," Victoria prompts, her tone set low to prevent further alarm to the twitchy mare. She hops off the fence and moves toward them, her long, confident strides eating up the distance between them. 

And then, she’s at Melinda’s side, one hand stroking Hub’s tensed neck and the other slipping between Melinda’s calf and the mare’s barrel. Her palm cups Melinda’s calf, and even through the leather of her tall-boot and the thick material of Victoria’s glove, she thinks she can feel the heat of Victoria’s skin.

“ _Softer_ ,” Victoria repeats, squeezing Melinda’s calf gently to mimic the type of pressure needed. “You’re demanding when you should be asking her to oblige you. Think of courting The Hub the way you would want to be courted.”

Melinda returns the pressure with her leg against Victoria’s hand, and can’t help but feel a warmth bloom in her chest when she receives an approving look.

..Which morphs into a smirk as Victoria slips her hand away from Melinda’s leg, purposely drawing her fingers down its length before moving away. She returns to her spot on the fence and looks at her expectantly. 

"As you were."

Melinda and Hub’s next interaction goes much more smoothly. Melinda imagines that the mare accepts her aids as requests to be grudgingly granted, but at least they’re moving together in the same direction. She lets her hips be moved by the horse’s hind quarters and slowly relaxes into the rhythm. 

Stride by stride, each step made purposeful by feather-soft squeezes of Melinda’s calves, Hub’s back loosens and begins to swing more naturally. And when Melinda asks -  _very_  politely - for a trot, the suppleness remains, creating a light, bouncy trot that makes up for the lack of balance with purposeful energy. 

Hub’s still a bit on her forehand, to Melinda’s chagrin, but her neck has relaxed down and she’s deigned to allow Melinda to maneuver her into a low, stretchy circle. She sneaks a look at Victoria in the corner of her eye. She’s smiling as genuinely as Melinda’s ever seen her. 

When Melinda transitions back down to a walk, she sees Victoria neatly hop off the fence and make off for the barn. She definitely does not eye the way the taller woman fills out her cream breeches as she walks.

Melinda is caught off guard when Victoria turns back around and calls out over her shoulder with a grin, “I’ll let Nick know Hub’s going to be our shared responsibility. Between you and me, she’ll be a badass princess by the time she’s eight.” 

She’s not sure how to respond, so she doesn’t. There’s an irritated tick forming at her brow in response to Victoria’s presumptuousness, but she’s also hopelessly intrigued by the thought of working side by side with a woman who is capable of such strength and softness in equal measure. She wonders what kind of horse they’ll make of Hub. 

"Good girl," Melinda murmurs absently as she scratches Hub’s withers.

Only time would tell.


End file.
